


Unchained Melody

by TheMouthKing



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: First Time, M/M, college rhink, handjobs, slight exhibitionism, surprise feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 18:37:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13129641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMouthKing/pseuds/TheMouthKing
Summary: Finals are over and the holidays are coming. Rhett and Link are watching movies with Gregg one night before they have to head home for winter break. Things are pretty normal until Link accidentally plants a hand in Rhett's lap, setting off a chain of events they can't escape.





	Unchained Melody

**Author's Note:**

  * For [babyduckie484](https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyduckie484/gifts).



> I'm sorry this is so crazy late. I had to travel early because of New York weather threats, and lost my last ditch writing night. <3 I hope you like this!

The semester is over and they’ve got a few nights to relax and unwind before everyone starts to head home for the holidays. They’re well into their second movie of the night, which hasn’t been holiday movies but rather whatever was playing on the TV. Currently they’re watching _Ghost_ despite Link’s protests that it was too much of a romantic movie for him to want to see, because as Rhett pointed out, Link liked so few movies that if they had to wait for him to approve they’d be flipping through channels all night long. 

Gregg’s long since slid off of Mr. Fly to sit on the floor, eventually ending up stretched out on his belly with couch pillow to help prop to watch the tv comfortably. It leaves Rhett and Link alone on the sofa, still sitting side by side despite the fact of the empty cushion to Rhett’s right.

Link’s ended up so slouched down in the sofa that he’s sore from sitting that way so long and has to shift and so he moves, his hand moving under the blanket to plant against the couch for leverage, but instead of his hand coming down on the cushion to his right, his hand comes down squarely in Rhett's lap. It’s an accident, or is it? It’s a hell of an overshot, but the look on Link’s face says it was inadvertent at best.

Rhett startles at finding Link's hand pressed to his crotch, but by the time Link realizes his mistake (immediately) and goes to pull his hand back (slightly less immediately) Rhett's recovered enough to stop him. 

“Leave it there,” Rhett says, fast, trying to get the words out before he chickens out. 

“Leave what?” Gregg asks from his position on the floor, twisting slightly to look up at the two of them over his shoulder. 

Rhett panics, feeling caught right then. He can feel Link desperately trying to catch his eye when he answers, covers, “The volume. Link's always messing with the damn remote.”

Link's heart is beating out of his chest. Does Rhett really want his hand to stay put? Does he really wanna do this, here, in front of Gregg? It seems like he does. Like he’s laid down the excuse of the remote as a way into this. Suddenly, Link is really, really glad that Gregg had decided he wanted to sit on the floor so he could have more leg room, because it means that even though he’s still _right there_ , they’re not in his line of sight. Unless he turns. 

“Yeah, man, leave it. The volume’s fine,” Gregg chimes in, settling back to watch the movie. 

They shouldn’t be doing this, _especially not_ in front of Gregg. Link tells himself it was an accident and that since Rhett’s the one who’s pushing for him to keep his hand there, that absolves him from any blame. Like that makes it okay. But the truth of it is that he wants this as much as Rhett apparently does, maybe more. It’s been there bubbling up beneath the surface, coming out in not-so-subtle ways, but he’d managed to keep enough distance to avoid looking it dead on. Until now.

There’s no option to talk about this now, and that actually feels like permission to act. Permission to just figure this out in silence because they _can’t_ talk it over, and that removes some of the pressure to put whatever this is into words. Because even if they had words for whatever they’re standing on the edge of, they sure as shit can’t say them now. 

His hand slowly moves against Rhett, adding pressure with the heel. Something wild takes over in him, and he hears himself talking despite _how bad an idea that is._

“I don’t get why we can’t just turn the volume up a little.” He says it as his hand moves over Rhett’s cock, now hardening under the fabric of his sweatpants. He’s certainly trying to get _something_ up, more than just a little, and Rhett’s trying his damndest to keep the _volume_ down. 

_”Fine,”_ Rhett says, tone a little too harsh too fast in response to what it seems like is happening to anyone else who isn’t them, just a conversation about the remote. As Link’s hand tries to curl against him through his sweats, he finds the remote and turns the volume on the tv up three more blips, feels like he has to to keep Gregg catching on that they’re not talking about the volume at all and looking back to see what’s going on. Maybe with the volume a little higher, they stand a better chance at not getting caught. Rhett can’t help the nagging fear that that’s probably not true, that whatever it is they’re doing, getting caught with Link’s hand in his pants feels inevitable. 

“Happy now?” Rhett asks, setting the remote down on the blanket between them, brushing against Link’s arm as he does so. The way he says it comes off like a challenge. 

“I’ll show you messing with the remote,” Link says just loud enough for Rhett to hear, trying hard for cocky and confident even though his heart is loud beating in his ears as his hand starts to fish around in Rhett’s lap, working into his pants. He doesn’t know at just what point this turned into a wordless challenge, escalating like they’re swapping dares, but here they are. Link finds out quickly that Rhett hadn’t worn boxers under his sweats when his hand comes into contact with skin, fingers curling around his stiffening erection. Suddenly every last ounce of bravado is gone and Link’s so close to backing down, to pulling his hand back like he’d been burned by the heat of his flesh and the reality of his cock swelling in his hands, but in that second Rhett’s gone wide-eyed and flushed in his effort to stay silent and it stays his hand. 

Whatever this is, this wordless situation they’ve found themselves in, they’re locked here together now. Link’s caught in the power he feels like he has over Rhett, the absolute attention he has trained on him is intoxicating. 

The movie plays on while they sit there, trapped in this moment. Link's hand down Rhett's pants and rubbing slow and awkward and Rhett trying so desperately not to react out loud. He's terrified that Link will stop, that this will get _too much_ and he’ll back down, recoil and pull away and there he’ll be, left hard and wanting and obvious on the sofa with nothing to do but sit and wait until he's back from the edge enough to stand up and get away without drawing attention to himself. 

He's pleading with Link silently, hardly aware he's doing it, his eyes communicating his desperation for him to keep his hand there, keep touching him. They joke and talk about girlfriends and conquests, but the reality of it is that Rhett's so touch starved he could crawl out of his skin. And even if he wasn't, it's different with Link than it is with some girl from class he's chased after. How many times has he imagined a scenario where Link would reach out and touch him like this? A touch that isn't about wrestling or shoving or anything platonic but still somehow charged with an undercurrent of _more_. 

More times than he could count. 

Link finds what he needs to continue in Rhett’s eyes, in the tension painted across his face. The effort it’s taking not to react, not to breathe, not to moan -- not to _beg_ for more, faster, don’t stop. 

Neither of them are paying attention to the movie anymore when the first notes of Unchained Melody start playing and Link can see Rhett’s attention start to drift, half trying to take in the scene that’s unfolding on the tv. Demi Moore sitting with a wheel between her knees and Swayze at her back, his mouth searching for her skin, his hands more focused on finding hers than on helping turn the clay. Something in the moment shifts, fueled by the music and the love scene they’re both taking in out of the corner of their eyes to varying degrees of success. 

This feels heavier than it did at the start, more than just a dare. They think they have perspective on time, each of them thinking near the same thing in the overwhelming silence they’re maintaining there on the sofa. They think these few years during which they’ve taken notice of the other has been a long time, both of them finding meaning in the lyrics about loneliness and time. Barely twenty, and they think they know what it is to ache. 

When did this shift from a silent dare to wordless communication? Link feels like he can read Rhett’s mind, like he can see it in his eyes what he’s trying to say, what he wants. Everything about this is awkward, from the threatening potential of being caught to the angle of his hand in Rhett’s lap and the new strangeness of touching someone else like this. Touching Rhett like this. But there’s no way he’s stopping, not when he can see Rhett slowly starting to lose his composure. 

Rhett’s hands fist in the blanket that’s draped over both their laps, his thighs trembling. Link would stroke him faster if he wasn’t afraid of being heard, faster being his preference, but the forced silence works in Rhett’s favor because slow is how he likes it. Long, slow strokes _just like that._ Every time Link lets his thumb move over the head he has to fight to stay silent, teeth digging into his lip in his effort to bite back sound that would give them away, that would bring this to a screeching halt. 

When he comes, it’s a goddamn early Christmas miracle that he manages to do so without making a sound. He’s not entirely sure he got off scot free, almost certain that Gregg has to have caught on to _something_. If not the motion between them on the sofa -- could he feel it? -- then the scent of need and sex in the air, or just awareness of the growing tension in the room. But, nothing. Rhett’s barely beginning to come down, face as red as the few Christmas decorations they’d hung up in their shared dorm room, and Gregg hasn’t moved a muscle, hasn’t uttered a word. 

Link doesn’t shy away. That’s where Rhett’s brain is stuck, alternating between the simple truth that Link’s hand is still there, stroking slow through the mess to carry him through, and the fact that somehow they’ve managed to avoid being noticed. The reason for that becomes clear when they hear a single, loud snore. Despite the sound in the room from the movie playing on, that snore startles Rhett practically out of his skin. Startles the both of them, Link’s snap reaction being to think it’s Greg shifting to look and in a moment of panicked effort not to get caught with his hand in Rhett’s pants, starts to pull away, only to realize too late that they’ve gotten away with it. That Gregg had fallen asleep on the floor. That he didn’t have to pull away. 

They’d gotten away with it, but the spell felt like it was broken. Link had taken his hand back and it feels like there’s this pressure to fall back into themselves, to let the movie play on and pretend this hadn’t happened. Neither of them know just where that pressure’s coming from. From within and without, from the years they’d spent not talking about what it was they’d both slowly started to realize they wanted to explore because they’d been afraid of what they might find. 

They sit there for what feels like an eternity, Rhett trying to regain his breath and composure and Link kicking himself that he’d pulled away like he had. They’re thinking the same thing again without knowing it. Link’s hyper aware of how hard he is in his pants and how badly he wants Rhett’s big hands on him, but he feels rooted to his seat, while Rhett keeps trying to throw sideways glances to see if this had effected Link. But he can’t see a damn thing with the blanket pooling in his lap, so the silence stretches on as the movie plays unwatched, both of their attention on the other sidelong, but with a laser focus. 

It’s too much. It feels like they’re doing that thing you do when you’re watching a movie with a girl where you’re sitting slightly too far away and trying to sense if it’d be okay to slide closer, to reach out and take her hand. If she’s over there secretly wanting you to make a move. 

In a moment of pure recklessness, Rhett reaches over and drags the backs of his fingers down along Link’s forearm towards his hand. Link startles from his thoughts, looking down at their hands together like he doesn’t know what to do with that information. Rhett’s hand rubs back the way it came, caressing over the back of his hand, his knuckles, down his slender wrist. Before Link manages to react, to realize that _Rhett’s pulling a Swayze_ , Rhett’s grabbing hold of Link’s hand, curling his long fingers around Link’s and tugging him closer. 

“Let me,” Rhett says under his breath, turning towards Link so he can hear him even though he’s whispering, his breath hot against Link’s ear as the two start to gravitate together. Rhett’s trying to pull him closer with their joined hands and there’s a moment in there where it looks like Link is trying to get his hand away, but that’s not what’s happening. What’s happening is that he’s trying to bring Rhett’s hand where he wants it, trying to arrange them so he can get more than this awkward side-by-side, but he’s so afraid that if they move they break the spell that he’s quick to give in to Rhett’s single-minded aim. 

Rhett’s hand finds Link _hard_ and straining his pants and the first second that big hand curls around Link’s bare flesh they’re almost caught, Link apparently completely incapable of staying silent. Rhett hushes him, casting a glance at Gregg still stretched out and apparently asleep on the floor, giving a slow testing stroke, his hand and Link’s cock moving together against the soft fabric of the blanket as he pulls him free of his sweats. But Link can’t shush himself. It’s just a breath but it’s loud with voice, a near moan, his head falling back against the sofa like if he just aims the sound upwards it won’t be heard. 

“Shut up,” Rhett hisses, pulling his hand away as he realizes that this isn’t something they can apparently do here. That if he keeps on touching Link they’re gonna wake Gregg, get caught, have to explain to their best friend why they’d started bringing each other off watching _Ghost_ of all movies. As if the fact of the movie makes this better or worse. 

But the loss of Rhett’s hand affects Link almost more than the presence of it, and the sound Link makes is practically a whimper. It’s not the practical answer, but it’s the immediate one: Rhett leans the short distance in and seals Link’s obvious mouth with his own to silence him. It’s a mistake and he knows it immediately -- if his aim was to shut Link up, this sure as hell wasn’t it. Link’s making these soft, broken sounds muffled in the kiss and Rhett’s afraid to break away for fear that he’ll erupt with a cry too loud to stifle. 

But finally, he has to risk it. He pulls back slow, just an inch and breathes, “Shut your mouth and get in our room.”

How Link manages to get from the sofa in their suite’s lounge to the bedroom he shares with Rhett without making a sound or tripping and waking Gregg is a mystery for the ages. Rhett follows, practically falling over himself to get to his feet as he sees the blanket fall away from his best friend, _sees_ instead of just feels the erection tenting the front of his pants. The instant they’re inside with the door shut behind them, they pick up where they left off. It’s awkward and sophomoric, all hands and mouths colliding as they figure out how to move together, but the spell of the sofa and the movie is apparently not broken after all.


End file.
